


Permanent

by Tay (erentitanjaeger)



Series: The Drug Cartel AU [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, a tiny bit of angst, background lallura, hints of suicide, keith wears lingerie, mentioned drug use, mostly fun and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:23:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9940586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erentitanjaeger/pseuds/Tay
Summary: “They think I’m temporary.”It wasn’t a question.“Yes,” Shiro answered honestly.  “But I’m determined to show them otherwise.”“I think you’re pretty permanent, too,” Keith said, quiet, almost cautious.  Shiro bumped their foreheads together.“Good,” was all he said.  “I plan to be.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write more for this au and it suddenly became a shiro birthday fic? not mad.
> 
> i'm sorry for the tiny amount of angst; i really like writing self-destructive keith. but i hope all the smut, fluff and fun makes up for it.
> 
> two sins for the price of one. are you proud of me, father?

**Then**

Shiro woke up on his birthday to an empty bed.  He had been sleeping on his stomach, neck twisted at a right angle, so when the morning sun filtered through the stained curtains and hit his eyes, waking him from what had been a peaceful night’s sleep, he could feel the stiffness settling in already.

His eyes blinked open, he lifted his head off the pillow, grimacing at the twinge already making its way down his spine.  He groaned, slowly working out the kink before turning to his right…and seeing a pile of blankets and pillows that should have held his boyfriend.  He pouted.  He tried not to be sour.  Keith was probably just getting coffee.  Making breakfast.  Walked out to get the mail.  Anything.

Except he couldn’t hear the shower running.  Or sounds coming from the kitchen.  The front door was still firmly closed, the chain across it from when he had locked up last night. 

Shiro rolled over so he was lying on his back, arm thrown over his eyes to try and escape the glare of the sun.  He sighed, deciding he’d get another hour or two of sleep, in which Keith would hopefully return to his side in the meantime. 

Then there was a light shuffle, bare footsteps creeping up to the side of the bed, the mattress dipping.  Shiro smiled, eyes still hidden under his arm.  He felt a body, lithe and small but so strong and sprightly, crawl across to where Shiro lay.  A long and smooth leg being thrown over his torso so the body was straddling him.  Shiro could imagine it, even if he couldn’t see it.  Pale skin glowing in the light of the room, dust motes stirring in the midst of long legs and a smooth stomach, a naked body fit and lean ready for Shiro to take as he pleased. 

At least he imagined Keith to be naked, though he had gone to bed in his boxers and one of Shiro’s t-shirts. 

Fuck, he hoped he was naked.

“Enjoying yourself?” Keith’s voice came, light and mischievous.  He must have been awake for a while already, none of sleep’s thickness lying in his tone. 

Shiro let his grin grow wider.

“I am, actually,” he answered simply. 

Hands came to rest on his chest, sliding up his pectorals, Keith’s crotch rubbing against his stomach. 

It was then that Shiro’s brows furrowed.  Keith certainly wasn’t naked, but he wasn’t wearing his boxers either.

Shiro lifted his arm, curious, and felt his heart leap into his throat, his blood rushing to his dick.  All he could think was ‘how does Keith even think of this stuff?’

Keith looked down at him, a knowing smirk planted on his features.  Shiro couldn’t even be mad; Keith deserved to feel smug.  What he was wearing, the black lace fitting snug on his hips, the peek of a belly button showing through the curtain of sheer fabric covering his torso, the top sitting smoothly over a broad chest, outlining it so flawlessly, it was going to be giving Shiro spank bank material for months.

Keith leant back, his ass sitting snuggly over Shiro’s crotch.  His posture perfect, sitting tall and proud, sexy smirk glistening thanks to gloss covered lips.  His hands delicately played with the edges of his slip, lifting it painstakingly slowly so Shiro could get just a little more of a look at that perfect stomach.

“Like it?” Keith asked, hair hanging thick as he eyed Shiro through his bangs. 

Shiro swallowed.

“Y-yeah.  I do.” He hated that he hadn’t been able to sound as smooth as he had hoped.  He shouldn’t be surprised though.  Keith always had that effect on him. 

“I agonised over which one to choose for you for weeks.  Wasn’t sure which one you’d like.” Keith’s fingers let the fabric fall free, instead choosing to hook his thumbs in the waistband of the lace panties, pulling them down only slightly so just the v of his hips were showing, moving carefully over Shiro as he did.

Shiro hissed through his teeth. 

“You made a… _very_ good choice,” Shiro reassured him. 

Shiro’s bionic hand came up to rest on Keith’s hips, guiding his smooth motions only slightly, his other hand going to prop up his head better, so he could gaze at Keith with half open, still sleepy eyes.

Keith was looking at him with a quiet reverence; an expectation Shiro was all too happy to meet. 

“I’m glad,” Keith’s voice was soft, so quiet, like a feather kissing Shiro’s face as he continued to sway above Shiro.  His hands moved again, fingers trailing up his stomach, catching Shiro’s eyes so they followed to the space between Keith’s pecs.  The lace slip he was wearing tied at the front, a simple, thin, black ribbon the only thing keeping it hooked over Keith’s figure.

Shiro wanted to burn that ribbon with his eyes, let it fall away, then cut Keith’s panties off with a blade so he would be naked and bare and ready for Shiro to ravish.  He moaned at the thought, low in the back of his throat.

Keith’s eyes, framed with dark eyeshadow and sharp wings, flickered over Shiro’s face, checking to see if he was still watching.  Like Shiro could even look away.

With his make up so perfectly in place, the dark lace situated so effortlessly on his body, his pale skin now a beacon thanks to the sun and all that black material allowing it to stand out, he looked exactly like a doll.  An expensive, porcelain one greedy hands shouldn’t touch.

Shiro grinned now, like a cat toying with a mouse.

“You look so fucking gorgeous, babydoll,” Shiro told him, knowing Keith would wilt under the praise.  Sure enough, Keith’s movements stuttered.  Only slightly.  Only so small that Shiro would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking for it. 

“Thank you,” Keith said, voice still featherlight.

It was Keith working for the praise yet it was Shiro who was rewarded when Keith’s fingers finally took a hold of that thin ribbon and pulled, the whole top falling away to reveal the body underneath.  Shiro’s intake of breath could be heard across the room.

Keith continued to dance above him, swaying his hips slowly so they brushed Shiro’s now fully hard dick, the feeling of lace on hot skin sending shivers up his spine every time it did.  Keith tossed his head, black hair falling over his shoulders, eyes still sparkling. 

It occurred to Shiro, as he lay there, that he felt like a king.  Lying under this gorgeous man getting naked just for him, hand still resting on a bony hip, another lazily propping his head up, no movement having been made on his part since this all started.  He realised he’d never have to move if he didn’t want to.  That Keith would do his bidding all morning.  He could snap his fingers and his cock would be sucked.  Motion his hand and Keith would turn around and sink down to the hilt.  So many possibilities, all for him. 

He allowed himself a grin.

“Ride me,” he ordered.  Keith’s expression didn’t fall, having expected something like this to happen.  He simply nodded, pushing down his panties so they stretched over his thighs, his own proud erection sitting up red and leaking against his stomach.  Keith leant back against Shiro’s thighs as he pushed black lace down snow-white skin, over his ankles and tossing the undergarment to the end of the bed.  Keith’s hand circled around the base of Shiro’s cock, and without even breaking eye contact, began to push him in.

Shiro let his head fall back, his arm leaving Keith’s side to join the other behind his head.  He only lifted his hips slightly so he could adjust as Keith’s walls continued to take him in.  He groaned, shutting his eyes and just feeling.  It felt hot.  It felt tight.  It felt like God himself was finally sucking his dick like Shiro had commanded him angrily too so many times in his youth.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he grunted.  “Keith!  Shit!”

Keith had definitely been awake for hours, if the get-up, the make-up and the already prepared ass was anything to go by.  He was slick and wet as he sank further down, lube trickling down Shiro’s erection.  It had Shiro gritting his teeth, trying not to cum already at the thought of Keith in the bathroom, bent over the counter, legs splayed and fingers up his ass as he panted and tried not to cum over the bathroom cabinets.

It was all he could do but swear as Keith’s ass finally sat down on his balls.  He opened his eyes.

Keith was panting, sweaty and flushed as his chest rose and fell rapidly.  His arms were behind him, propping himself up on Shiro’s thighs, but his eyes were still locked on Shiro’s face.  Shiro smiled at him again, showing his boyfriend he was indeed having a grand old time.  Keith’s brows twisted, his mouth opening, letting out a strangled moan.  Shiro chuckled. 

He remembered what his smile did to Keith.

“Take it slow,” Shiro ordered again.  His let himself relax into the pillows, his body sinking into the mattress. 

Keith began to move.

Slowly at first, getting used to having Shiro stuffed inside him again, leaning back and rolling his hips on Shiro’s cock.  They were shallow movements at first, his ass never really leaving Shiro’s crotch, just enough to move the heat and work his muscles around Shiro’s dick.  Shiro continued to groan, continued to grin, cocky and arrogant, his eyes having slipped shut moments before. 

After a while, Keith pitched himself forward, holding himself up on Shiro’s stomach and beginning to move in earnest, chasing an orgasm he had probably been dreaming about all weekend.  He was clenching too, trying to wring Shiro’s own orgasm out of him first.  Shiro was beginning to unravel, beginning to let out grunts as Keith’s skin slapped against his. 

Then his movements slowed again, his legs working to make his actions painfully and erotically _good._   He’d lift up slowly, walls, slick and wet and warm, dragging along Shiro’s shaft, then sink back down just that little bit faster, taking him all in again.  Shiro moaned, hands fisted into the pillow under his head, his hips now beginning to rise from the bed, wanting to meet Keith half way.

“Keith,” the name left his lips, but he held it close to his heart.  “Keith, fuck, I love you.”

This probably hadn’t meant to get all sappy and sentimental, at least not yet, but hell, it was his fucking birthday and he was allowed to get sappy and sentimental if he so fucking pleased.

Shiro lifted his head, sitting up.  Keith had halted his movements, looking at Shiro with lust filled, yearning eyes, moist and glistening, so round and perfect Shiro could drown in them.  He helped Keith move his legs out from under him so they wrapped around Shiro’s waist, so their hips melded together somehow even better than before.  Keith’s arms lifted to cup Shiro’s face, Shiro’s arms wrapped securely around his lover.

“I love you, Babydoll,” Shiro gasped, sweat beading down his forehead.  One hand came up to brush sweaty bangs from Keith’s eyes. 

“I love you, too,” Keith returned, voice thick with tears as he forced their lips together and began to ride Shiro in earnest. 

Shiro groaned, cupping Keith’s jaw and letting their tongues dance.  Keith bounced in his lap, Shiro rocking his hips to meet his half-hazardous thrusts.  Keith let out little pants and squeaks as Shiro managed to slam home every time, Keith’s prostate being absolutely abused, his legs and spine shaking and sweating with the effort to just keep going. 

Shiro helped Keith bury his face in his shoulder, crying out as he was fucked so thoroughly.  Shiro pressed Keith’s body to him so hard he could feel their hearts beating against each other’s ribcages, could feel them synchronise as they climbed that glorious high together.  Keith’s cock was leaking all over Shiro’s abdomen, brushing against the skin and making Keith groan as sharp shocks of pleasure raced down his spine every time it did.  Shiro worked his hips, letting Keith rock down on his cock a few final times before Keith was convulsing, coming, thick ribbons of semen coating their chests.

Shiro came moments after, unable to resist the squeeze of Keith’s insides, unloading into him and groaning into his hair, panting his declaration of love over and over again as they came undone at the same time.

The apartment was quiet.  Save for their panting, for Keith’s quiet whimpers, for Shiro’s continued whispers of love and adoration.  Keith tried to lift his head from its place on Shiro’s shoulder.  Tried to return his confessions, but he had been stripped of speech and all he could do was let his limbs fall, bone-dead and exhausted, into Shiro’s hold.

Shiro kissed his hair, clutched Keith’s face and held him back so their eyes could meet.

“You’re beautiful,” he managed to gasp out.  Keith grinned, bright and honest, tilting his head for a kiss.  Shiro was more than happy to oblige, their lips melding, sweet and sensual.

When Keith’s shivers started, it was then that Shiro knew how invested he had been in that role, how much work had gone into maintaining his focus for so long, how intense it had become.  Shiro unravelled their bodies from each other and lay him down, rushing to the bathroom for a wet cloth.  He wiped Keith’s stomach and cock of fluids, then carefully lifted a leg to wipe at his entrance.  Keith whimpered when he did.

Shiro finished wiping himself down than threw the cloth into a discarded pile of clothes on the floor, pulling the covers up over the both of them and pulling Keith into a tight embrace.  Keith was responsive, his arms working around Shiro’s neck, nosing at his jaw.  Shiro petted his hair, stroked his back, whispered into his ear how much he loved him, how thankful he was for that performance, how thankful he was for Keith. 

Keith’s lips met his ear, kissing his lobe.

“Happy birthday,” his voice quiet but steady, Shiro silently relieved he was coming back easily.

“Thank you, love.” Shiro held him tighter.

They stayed in bed for the rest of the morning and long into the afternoon.  The morning sun left their little sanctuary, having warmed the place enough to make it cosy and comfortable.  After they napped, they talked, like they always did. 

Their fingers intertwined between them as Keith told Shiro about his weekend, where he had been forced to attend his step-brother’s wedding.  He complained about the dancing and the food.  He whined about the constant questions he fended off about his boyfriend and where he was and if he even existed.  Shiro chuckled.

Shiro hadn’t been able to be there, he hadn’t been invited, and Keith’s invitation left no room for a plus one.  A not-so-subtle hint from Keith’s brother that he still didn’t like him.  He wouldn’t have been able to come anyway; a deal somewhere in Tokyo having gone astray and Shiro had needed to be there to clean up the mess.  No major revenue had been lost but his superiors weren’t happy about it either.

“I can make up the majority of what we lost with our buyers here, but I don’t think they’ll be happy about the price increase,” he was saying, Keith resting comfortably on his chest, their fingers dancing together in the air above them. 

“As long as you don’t have to leave again, I don’t give a fuck what our buyers think,” Keith chipped.  Shiro smiled into his hair. 

It was quiet for a moment, something hanging in the air Shiro didn’t particularly want to address, but knew it would come out eventually.

“They’re beginning to ask questions.”

“About?”

“About why I seem so adamant about staying here all the time.  Normally, I’m the first to jump at the chance to jet all over the world.  They can’t begin to understand my reasons for suddenly settling down here of all places.”

Keith lifted his head so he was looking Shiro in the eyes.

“I thought they knew about me?”

“They do,” Shiro reassured him.  “It’s not like I’ve kept you my dirty, little secret.”

Keith pondered this.

“They think I’m temporary.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Shiro answered honestly.  “But I’m determined to show them otherwise.”

Keith’s smile showed his teeth, reached his eyes and seemed to light his whole face.  He moved in, Shiro lifting his head to meet him in a kiss, soft and slow and everything they needed.

“I think you’re pretty permanent, too,” Keith said, quiet, almost cautious.  Shiro bumped their foreheads together.

“Good,” was all he said.  “I plan to be.”

\---

**Now**

It wasn’t Shiro’s next birthday, but the one after, that found them both in much the same position as the one they had shared together previously.  There were several large changes however.

They had traded Keith’s ratty, old and underkept apartment for a mansion in the countryside, a luxurious room fit with its own kitchen and a balcony.  Keith had grown from a frail body riddled with toxins and alcohol for one covered in lean muscles, glowing skin and hair now falling past his shoulders.  They had kept their engagement rings, yet another was now placed on both their fingers, having finally completed their vows in front of all their friends and family. 

Now clothes were strewn across the room, having been ripped from each other’s bodies as the afternoon sun hit their little cocoon, their new sanctuary that offered only comfort and peace.  Keith was splayed on his back, in the very middle of their huge bed, Shiro between his legs, hips working to bring them together.

Shiro grunted, sweat rolling down his face and neck.  Keith’s head was thrown over the pillows, his cheeks flushed an attractive red, lips swollen and parted as pants and moans escaped him in a rush as pleasure was cleaved into him.  Keith’s hands clawed at Shiro’s back, could feel his muscles working, bunching and pushing under tan skin.  He let out another moan, unable to hold back at the sight of his drop-dead gorgeous husband thrusting so needily into his heat.

“Shiro,” Keith gasped, trying to lift his head, but his muscles failing him.  He was a piece of meat Shiro was ravishing whole.  A limp body Shiro could do what he wanted with.  He wasn’t complaining, far from it.

Shiro’s hips weren’t slowing, only increasing their pace as their orgasms came closer and closer to fruition.  Shiro groaned at the sound of his name, looking down at his husband, trying not to cum at just the sight.

“Hnnng, baby, you’re too good,” Shiro growled, bending so his forehead was pressed against Keith’s.  He let his hands lift from where they had been fisting the sheets beside Keith’s body, now trailing down his chest and to his hips where he could twist him so he was at a slightly more convenient angle for Shiro to work into.  “Is all this for me?  Your body?  Your skin?  Your hair, your heart?”

Keith would scream if Shiro would give him the chance to do it.  He couldn’t.  He could only clutch at Shiro’s biceps. 

“ _Fuck,_ how do you do this to me?” Shiro continued.  “How do you drive me so wild?  Make me never want to leave this room?  Just throw you across it and fuck you on every solid surface in here.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Keith let out a guttural sound.  His body spasmed.  He shut his eyes tight, trying to hold on.  He didn’t want to cum yet.  Not before Shiro was absolutely done with him.

Shiro gripped a fistful of hair and yanked Keith’s head back so his throat was exposed.  He could see Keith’s air way working to get oxygen to his lungs.

“Answer me, slut,” Shiro growled into the skin.  Keith absolutely mewled. 

“Yes!” He finally managed to gasp out.  His lungs were working overtime to get oxygen into his blood, to his brain.  He was trying desperately to form a response, but it was so hard when Shiro’s hips were currently rolling into him at the most delicious angle.  Stars were dancing behind his eyelids.

How the fuck was he supposed to think like this?

“Yes, what?” Shiro’s voice was so deep.  His teeth were busy marking up Keith’s skin in between dirty remarks. 

Keith shut his eyes, just letting the pleasure flood his system and concentrate solely on Shiro’s hips attacking his.

Then Shiro’s hand, his bionic one, the one with all the power, was surrounding his throat and squeezing.  Keith gasped, now no chance of breathing at all as Shiro’s pace didn’t even slow, just glowing, fierce eyes boring into his wide-open ones, commanding him silently to yield.

“Yes.  What.” Shiro said again.  He relaxed his hand just enough for Keith to cough out an appropriate answer.

“Yes, Sir!”

Shiro seemed to be happy with that, because his movements suddenly halted.  He pulled out, manhandling Keith so he was flipped onto his stomach, hair falling over his face.  He thought of Keith only enough to shove a pillow under his hips so he had something to prop them up against.  Then Shiro was pushing in again.  Keith spread his legs wide, letting Shiro in as far and as close as he could.  He gaped, mouth going wide as he was filled to the core. 

But he welcomed it.  Welcomed Shiro’s large cock splitting him open six ways till Sunday, making Keith’s vision swim. 

“Lift your hips, slut.”  One of Shiro’s arms was beside Keith’s head.  The other was pressed in between his shoulders, keeping him in place.  Keith managed to contort his limbs so his hips were raised only slightly, giving Shiro just enough room to pick up here he had left off, setting the pace again at fast, hard and brutal.

Keith continued to choke on his moans, a hand somehow finding its way up to trace the veins in Shiro’s wrist, the one situated so close to him.  Shiro got the message, interlocking their fingers and pressing their hands into the sheets.  A completely innocent gesture from someone who was currently planning on ruining his asshole.

“What do you say?” Shiro’s voice somehow still held steady.  Keith knew he was wrecked though.  Knew he was coming undone at the seams each time his balls slapped against Keith’s ass.

Keith shut his eyes for the umpteenth time.  He wished Shiro would stop making him talk.  Stop making him concentrate.  His mind grasped at words, before finally giving him the combination he needed.

“Thank you, Sir,” his voice wrangled into the pillow.  “Th-thank you so much.  It f-feels so good.  Ah…ah…I’m such a slut for your cock.  Oh, _fuck._   There!  Please, Sir, for the love of God, right there.”

Keith was thankful he didn’t break character, and Shiro was happy to comply.  He aimed his hips and pistoned them into just the right spot that had Keith literally screaming into the bed.

“Such a good whore for me,” Shiro’s voice was gravelly, unparalleled as he growled filthy things into Keith’s ear.  “Spread out like this just for my cock?  You’re so greedy, you filthy boy.  Getting stuffed isn’t good enough for you, is it?  You want more?”

Keith just continued to gasp and scream, his body seizing up as his orgasm began low in his gut and spread out to every corner of his limbs.

“Y-yes!  Yes!” Keith replied, keeping it together only long enough to get out his next words.  “God, fuck me, Sir!” 

Shiro then rose from his place, hooking his hands around Keith’s thighs so he could lift his hips, and rammed home.  Keith wasn’t sure if he was hitting his prostate on purpose, or just using his body as a fuck hole and just happened to be abusing that special bundle of nerves in the process.  Keith didn’t care.  Couldn’t care.  Not when his knuckles turned white as he clutched at the bedsheets.  Not when his dick was grinding into the pillow with each brutal thrust in, dragging against the soft material with each pull back.  Certainly not when, finally, his orgasm ripped through his body, tore along his veins and had him gasping and screaming, grappling for anything, just _something_ to hold onto as his cock forced his cum from his body.

Shiro continued to go at it though, moaning unabashedly now, letting Keith’s slick walls surround him and the wet heat engulf his very being as he too let his orgasm wash over him.  He panted, grunted, forced his cock deeper into Keith’s body as he came.  He was sure to stuff him full, not letting any of it escape. 

Keith whined, high pitched and needy, as he felt hot semen fill him.  His eyes brimmed with tears at the feeling still pumping through his blood stream of being used, of being wrecked.

Of being sated. 

It took a moment for Shiro to allow his hold on Keith’s thighs to relax.  He lowered Keith’s hips to the bed, pulled his softening cock out of his hole, and carefully ran his hands over Keith’s back.  He rubbed gently at the muscles, trying to give Keith something to mentally hold on to.  Keith appreciated it so much.  His breathing was erratic.  Both of theirs were.

Carefully, Shiro crawled over Keith’s body.  He pushed Keith’s hair out of his face so he could look at his expression, gauge it for signs of trauma or hurt or anything damaging.  Keith was smiling though.  His eyes were watery and his forehead was matting his bangs with sweat, but he was in good spirits.  Shiro let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, gorgeous boy,” Shiro cooed softly, all roughness and commanding tone gone, using the hand that wasn’t propping him up to rub soothing circles into Keith’s muscles again.  “You good there, honey?”

Keith’s smiled widened, but he knew he had to respond. 

“Uh huh,” he said, not daring to move just yet. 

Shiro lowered himself so he could press his forehead to Keith’s, their breaths mingling as they came down from the high brought on by fantastic sex.

“Happy birthday,” Keith managed to mutter. 

Shiro chuckled.

“Thank you, Babydoll.”  He carefully manoeuvred himself so he was lying comfortably next to his husband, lifting a hand to sweep his bangs back from his forehead.  Keith slowly lifted each of his limbs, testing his movements, before being able to roll onto his side too.  Shiro moved so he was close, clutching Keith to his chest.  His hand moved up and down Keith’s spine.  He could feel the muscles twitching at the warm contact.

“You were so good,” Shiro praised.  Keith nuzzled into his collarbone, in to his large chest muscles.  “So good for me.  Flawless even.  I’m so happy right now.”

Keith’s smile was pressed into Shiro’s chest.

“You made me talk too much,” Keith murmured.  Shiro wanted to laugh, but wasn’t sure if Keith was being serious.

“Did I?”

“Mmm,” Keith mumbled.  He turned his head so his cheek was pushed to Shiro’s skin.  Shiro could see his smile now.  “How the hell am I supposed to talk with your dick shoved so far up my ass I’m pretty sure it could drill a hole through my stomach?”

Shiro laughed.  His Keith was back.  He was safe and well.  Shiro was relieved.

“Part of the fun, Babydoll,” Shiro answered, amused.  Keith laughed with him.

Keith shuffled, the feeling in his limbs slowly travelling back to him fully now.  He could roll over, pressing his back to Shiro’s chest and resting on his arm.  Shiro let his other one wind around Keith’s stomach, his fingers tracing patterns through the freckles on his chest.

“You’re amazing,” Shiro praised, the arm under Keith’s head bending so his hand could run through his hair.  He bent his neck so he could kiss Keith’s sweaty shoulder.  “Gorgeous.  Perfect.”

Keith hummed happily, sighing contentedly and leaning back slightly so Shiro had a firmer grasp on his body.

“’M so sleepy now,” Keith mumbled.  His eyelids were drooping shut, his fingers linking through the ones Shiro had on his chest. 

“You should have some juice before you sleep, love.  You’ll feel better for it when you wake up.”

Keith whined, but accepted the glass and straw when Shiro held it up for him.  He ended up drinking it all, giving Shiro a sugary kiss before flopping back onto the pillows.

“Sleep now,” his voice was garbled by the pillow, but Shiro laughed, tucking thick strands behind Keith’s ear and kissing his temple.

Shiro stayed up for just a moment longer, making sure Keith’s dreams weren’t fretful or worrying.  When he was certain Keith was sleeping so deeply he wouldn’t dream, he too let his head down, closing his eyes and holding his husband that little bit closer before falling asleep beside him.

\---

**Then**

Keith couldn’t remember much of the year Shiro disappeared, the year Keith thought him to be dead.  More like, he didn’t _want_ to remember much of it.  He did, however, remember the events that transpired the day of Shiro’s birthday. 

February 28th came around, Keith woke up, saw the date, and went the fuck back to sleep.  He didn’t think it would hurt this much.  It hurt every day, so why would today be any different.  How wrong he was.  It stung like a bitch, wrangled his heart and left his breathing shallow and erratic.  He clutched his pillow and shoved his wet cheeks into it, for once not welcoming the familiarity that came when the loneliness over took him completely.

Everything seemed so much worse today, so much more real, yet Keith also felt like the entire day was one, bad dream. 

Shiro had died months ago, meaning his smell from the apartment had disappeared completely.  Keith had found everything that reminded him of his fiancé, and shoved it down the garbage shoot.  His brother had tried to stop him doing so, wondering if Keith wanted to keep at least one memento, something he would be glad he’d have when the grief had left his tired body and his mind cleared. 

Keith had punched him in the face for the suggestion, just because he could.

Even Keith’s best memories were hazy at best, and that scared him.  He wasn’t sure if he was scared because he was forgetting, and so that meant he was moving on, or if he was scared that he never would. 

Keith managed to crawl out of bed sometime in the afternoon, only because he desperately needed to pee, and then found sitting on the floor of the shower under the cold spray was as good as place as any to stay until night fell.  That’s how his brother found him, having let himself in, uninvited, _again._

“Jesus, you are pathetic,” was his reaction to Keith’s hunched figure, drenched to the bone and shivering to boot.  Keith glared at his shower floor tiles.

His brother grabbed him by the arm, hauling him up and out of the bathroom.  Keith immediately flopped back onto his bed.

“You’re still wet, for Christ’s sake!”

“So?”

“Oh my God.  It’s been almost a year!  Get over it, already!”

Keith could’ve turned and killed his brother right there and then.  Instead, he sat up, at least having the decency to pull a pillow over his crotch, and scowled at his brother through wet bangs.

“Haha, yeah.  What great advice.  Why didn’t I think of that?” he jeered sarcastically.

His brother came out of the bathroom, drying his hands and matching Keith’s glare.

“You’re not getting over him because you haven’t _tried._ ”

“Talk to me when your wife suddenly drops dead and you don’t find it so easy to take your own advice.”

“I told you before, I’m happy to pay for a few sessions with a therapist.”

Keith had actually considered therapy, if only because it meant getting his hands on mind-numbing drugs that he couldn’t get over the counter, and would put him through a daze that lasted longer than narcotics.

“No.” But he continued to refuse simply out of spite.

“Keith!”

“No, thank you.”

They continued to argue and bicker like this.  Keith slowly air drying on his bed, his brother waving his arms around and pacing the room.  Eventually he did leave though, with a loud threat that he’d never be bothering Keith again, and wouldn’t care if he dropped dead also.

“Promises, promises,” Keith muttered as quiet finally took up the space and he was allowed to lie back down.  He was pretty much completely dry now, so it didn’t feel as uncomfortable, but he still felt chilled and nauseous.  Keith thought it funny he didn’t even have the energy to go for the heroin currently hiding under the lid of his toilet basin. 

“Like it’d even make a difference,” he mumbled to himself.

Besides, heroin tended to make him more sentimental, more willing to indulge in memories of thick, warm arms wrapping around him, cosy, nights by the heater or passionate, sweat inducing sex against the bedroom wall.  It all hurt that much more when he came out of his comatose state and realised what he had done.

So instead, Keith tried to fall back asleep, to get to tomorrow.  Because maybe tomorrow would be better.  It’s the thought he fell asleep to every night, the only thing that kept him from throwing himself over the balcony railing.  Or shooting up a dose of heroin he knew to be lethal.  Or swallow the entire jar of sleeping pills he kept hidden in his kitchen. 

“Tomorrow,” Keith said, wrapped up in a thick duvet and surrounded by his usual hoard of pillows.  “Tomorrow will be better.  It _has_ to be.”

Keith fell asleep with this thought racing through his head, trying not to let the tears fall thick and the loneliness leave his body paralysed with a fear he didn’t recognise. 

That’s how Keith fell asleep every night, but instead, each time just got a little bit worse.  A little more disappointing.  A lot harder to keep saying it.  Suddenly, that sleeping pill bottle was looking more and more tempting.  More and more like the help he didn’t want to need, but so desperately craved.

Yet he held out; he wasn’t sure what for.

\---

Two months later and Shiro sent for him.

\---

**Now**

Shiro woke only a few hours later, feeling Keith’s fingers tracing the veins in his arm.  He shuffled, propping himself up on his elbow, looming over his husband and placing a sweet kiss on his lips.  Keith kissed back with enthusiasm, teeth nipping, breathy sounds falling from him.  Shiro smiled.  Keith smiled.  It’s really hard to kiss while you’re smiling, but they made it work.

“So, the birthday boy had a good time?” Keith asked when they separated, having moved to lie on his back now.  Shiro combed his hair with his fingers.

“The birthday boy had a great time,” Shiro reassured him.  “I’m still not sure where you come up with this stuff.”

“You’re just innocent,” Keith’s voice was filled with happiness.  Shiro could only grin. 

“ _I’m_ innocent?  I just called you a myriad of names I’m pretty sure had my mother turning in her grave.” 

“I _told_ you to call me a whore!  It doesn’t count if it wasn’t your idea.”

“Baby, if you could hear the things I think about you, I think you’d have a different opinion on just how ‘innocent’ I am.”

“Oh, yeah?  Lay ‘em on me!”

Shiro pressed his fingers into Keith’s sides, Keith giggling as he tried to get away from Shiro’s onslaught of tickles.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, playful but stern.  “I’m not getting you all riled up again.”

Keith managed to fight off Shiro’s hand, preferring to hold it in his own.

“So, you have nothing?  Knew it.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You probably imagine me lying on a cloud.”

“I have plenty dirty thoughts about you!”

 “Surrounded by daisies while I’m licked by puppies.”

“They’re daffodils, actually.” 

Keith cackled. 

Shiro was grinning.  For all their banter and all the fun Keith poked at him, he was happy. 

Keith looked up at him, smile still in place.  Shiro kissed it off his lips, cupping his jaw and searing their lips together.  Their tongues slicked, lips smacking in the quiet room.  Shiro held Keith tight, but it didn’t stop Keith from twisting, arching his chest up and looping his arms around Shiro’s neck. 

Shiro moaned.  He couldn’t help it.  Their bodies pressed together like this, Keith’s hair tickling his cheeks, their lips fitting against one another in amidst the heat and steam of their kiss, his arms so tight around Keith’s waist his bionic arm was probably leaving red marks in his skin thanks to the grooves in the metal.  It was almost better than sex. 

Keith rolled them, straddling Shiro’s stomach, their chests rubbing against each other and leant all his weight into the kiss.  Shiro was struggling to breathe through his nose, but like hell he was going to separate from his beloved.  Keith was panting already, still not quite recovered from their romp in the sheets, but not planning to yield either, especially when Shiro’s hands smoothed down his back to cup his ass, squeezing the globes of muscle, giving one a light smack.

Keith yipped.

“Oh, is that what you imagine doing to me?” Keith asked, playful and coy as his ass swayed in Shiro’s hands. 

Just as he was about to answer, there was a loud knock at their door, and without waiting for an answer, Lance came barging in.

“Hey, Husbands, it’s time to- woa!”

Keith looked over his shoulder, glaring at the intruder.  Lance had his arms over his eyes, probably trying to forget the image of Keith’s bare ass staring him in the face.  Keith rolled off Shiro, pulling the covers up, grumbling as he did. 

“Yes, Lance, how can I help you?” Shiro offered.  Keith lay back down on Shiro’s chest and Shiro let his hand trail down so he could still play with Keith’s ass under the sheets.

“I’m blind!  I will never see again!  My beautiful girlfriend!  I’ve already forgotten her face!” Was his answer.

Keith scoffed.  “Maybe knock next time…”

“I did knock!”

“…and actually wait for an answer!”

“Oh, yeah.  That.”

Keith rolled his eyes, burying his face in Shiro’s shoulder.

“Is everything ready, then?” Shiro asked.

Lance pulled his arms away from his eyes, finally stopping with the dramatics.

“Yep!  We’re ready when you are!”

“Okay then,” Shiro chuckled, beginning to sit up.  Keith followed, picking up his boxers from the floor and handing Shiro his own.  “We’ll meet you outside.”

Lance let out a woop and then scurried out, closing the door behind him.

“Aren’t we a little too old to be living with six or seven roommates?” Keith asked, stepping out of the bed, wincing slightly but shaking it off in lew of heading for the bathroom to wash up.

Shiro walked into the closet instead, picking shirts off the rack for the both of them, and pants to match.

“The higher ups don’t like us living separately.  Makes it too easy for enemies to target us,” Shiro explained, walking into the bathroom and placing their clothes on the bench.  He joined Keith in the shower, stepping under the spray and welcoming wet arms as they slid around his chest. 

“Do we have many of those?” Keith asked, chin digging into Shiro’s collar bone.

“Like you would not believe.”

Keith nodded as well as he could in his position.

He nuzzled his face into Shiro’s pecs again.  Shiro laughed, petting his wet hair and helping Keith wash his back.  Keith returned the favour.  They giggled, probably realising that this was a ridiculous way to get each other clean, but if it meant Shiro could rub their noses together in an eskimo kiss, could peck Keith’s lips and hold him close while the soap and the evidence of their orgasms washed down the drain, then he really couldn’t care less if they were ridiculous.

When they were clean and fresh and no longer wreaked of sex, they made their way down the stairs and out the door where a sleek, black range rover was waiting for them. 

“Move over, I’m driving,” Shiro said to Pidge, who frowned but gave up her place in the driver’s seat non-the-less.  Keith hopped into the back next to Lance and Allura. 

“Coran regrets not being able to come, Shiro,” Allura said, putting her tablet away.  “But the deal in Montreal is taking far longer than expected.  He sends his love, though.”

“Damn,” Shiro cussed, starting up the car and putting it in drive.  “Drunk Coran is my favourite.”

The car started moving and they made their way out of the large, iron gates at the front and onto the main road.

Keith watched the world go by, noticing they didn’t seem to be heading towards any kind of civilisation, their luxurious mansion becoming smaller and smaller as it disappeared behind them.  They just seemed to be heading further into the rolling hills, the stars becoming abundant above them as the last light of day fell away behind the horizon.

Hunk put in a CD and old western songs played through the speakers.  They sang along, loudly and off-key, to the classics and hummed through the newer ones they didn’t recognise.  Except for Lance.  Who uncannily knew every word and every song playing, aiming the more romantic of lines at his girlfriend, who gave him a warm smile in response, blushing despite the darkness in the car.

Finally, they pulled off the road and into a field, the car coming to a full stop at the top of a hill.  Pidge was the first to bound out, somehow, despite having sat in the middle.  She immediately went running down the hill, screaming in some foreign language as she did.

“Is that supposed to be Latin or something?” Keith asked as he hopped out too, but went to the boot of the care to help Lance and Hunk with the supplies.

“Klingon,” Hunk answered.  Keith eyed after Pidge’s still retreating figure, wondering if she ever planned on coming back.

“Hey, Spock!” Lance screamed after her.  “Do you think if you run fast enough you’ll shoot off to where no man has gone before?”

Pidge come barrelling back at lightning speed.  Keith wanted to know where she got the energy from.

“I’m Chekov, Lance!  We’ve been over this!”  She seemed to be genuinely annoyed by this.

“That’s no way to speak to your commanding officer!”

“You’re no captain of mine!”

As they bickered, Keith helped Hunk pull out camping chairs and cooking supplies, fold out tables and eskies full of meat, buns, fresh produce and cold drinks.  Allura and Shiro already had the fire going and were beginning to set up the chairs when Lance and Pidge finally came over to help.

“I’m telling you!  Allura is totally Uhura!  She’s smart, she’s tough as nails, she’s drop-dead gorgeous!  And she takes no shit!”

“But that would make you Spock.”

“Only in the reboots!”

Keith grabbed two beers from one of the eskies, walking past their bickering so he could find his place on Shiro’s lap, who had taken one of the larger, more comfortable camping chairs before anyone else could.  Keith handed him his beer and adjusted himself so he was comfortable, his ass slightly aching.  He ignored it.  He just wanted to be close to his husband.

“What are they even arguing about?” Keith whispered.  Lance had apparently had enough of being called a ‘pointy-eared bastard’, storming off to go help Hunk set up the food so they could start cooking.

“Star Trek,” Shiro answered, rubbing Keith’s thigh fondly. 

“Is that like a Star Wars sequel or something?” Keith asked.

“Bite your tongue!” Pidge exclaimed, having overheard him.

“Go easy on him, Pidge, he was never into the pop culture stuff,” Shiro came to his defence. 

“Yeah, I actually got laid during high school,” he jeered, taking a sip of his beer.  Shiro chuckled, but wound a possessive arm around Keith’s waist and pulled him closer.  Keith nosed into his neck, kissing his clean smelling skin and relaxing into Shiro’s arms.  “Don’t worry.  I have more sex with you than I ever did back then.”

Shiro snorted.

“Oh, I’m so glad Shiro is all in favour of your slutty ways,” Lance was strolling over, having been banned from helping with the cooking process.  Something about Hunk not wanting a repeat of last time. 

“Lance, you can’t talk,” Shiro’s voice was light but Keith noticed the edge in it.  The one that said ‘shut up, I have dirt on you’.  Keith ears perked in curiosity.

“Oh, do tell.”

“Excuse you, boss!  I’ve always been a serial monogamous!”

“Yes, you had a very healthy and solid relationship with the corn flakes.  For about a week.  Then, I believe, you moved on to Wheat Bix.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling his old girlfriends now?” Pidge came over to sit at Shiro’s feet so her back was resting against his shins and her feet were stretched out toward the fire.  “In that case, I actually had an affinity for, oh who was it, Lucky Charms?  She was nice.  Could actually hold a conversation without using the word ‘like’ every other word.”

“I really loved Coco Pops!” Hunk piped up from his place next to the fire, where he was stoking burger patties and sausages.  “She always smelt like flowers.”

Keith lost it, clutching at his stomach as he laughed at Lance’s expression of betrayal.

“Lance!?  A slut!?  Seriously!?” Keith was slapping his thigh now.  Lance only continued to glare at Shiro, who looked back in turn with a smug smile on his lips.

“I’ll have you know; I was pining!  Allura wouldn’t give me the time of day!”

“I think you being a slut had something to do with that,” Shiro said.

“Not true!  She just didn’t realise how madly in love she was with me yet!  Right, babe?”  Lance turned to Allura for help. 

Allura pretended to think about this.

“No, sweetheart, sorry.  Your inability to commit to one women was definitely a very large turn-off.”

Keith was pretty sure his spleen was going to rupture from how hard he was laughing.

“Isn’t it better that I saved all my _real_ love and devotion for the one women whom I truly adore?  Rather than flitter it away over those nobodies?” Lance’s hands danced in front of him, as if he was sprinkling salt over the dirt at his feet.

“I’ll tell Nutrigrain you said that,” Pidge countered.

“Poor Frosted Flakes.  I remember she really liked you, too,” Hunk sympathised. 

“Stop that!”  Lance actually stamped his foot in the dirt, like a four-year-old.

Allura came over to stand at Lance’s side, handing a beer to her pouting boyfriend.  He skulled half of it in one go.

“If I’m being honest,” Keith piped up, still giggling slightly as he spoke, “there is some truth to that.”

Lance choked on his beer.

“Red!?  Defending me!?” He managed to gasp out while wiping the alcohol off his lips. 

“Well,” Keith shrugged, “I was pretty much the same once upon a time.  Except I couldn’t even commit to a cereal brand let alone another guy.”

Shiro had placed his beer on the ground so his hand was free to rub Keith’s back as he spoke.  Keith could feel Shiro’s dark eyes boring into his face, knew he was looking at him so reverently.  Keith tried not to blush.

“I’m lone proof the right guy can have you slipping a ring on it before you can say ‘Beyonce’.”

Allura squealed.  Pidge gagged.  Lance was torn between tearing up or following Pidge’s lead.  Shiro wrapped both arms around his husband and pulled him so tight to his chest he might have heard something crack.  Keith only returned the gesture though, snuggling into Shiro’s chest.  His grin was so wide it hurt, and the kisses he received to his eyelids, his cheeks, his jaw and finally his lips were well worth the embarrassment. 

“Food’s ready!” Hunk called.  Pidge bounded off again, actually jumping over the fire to be the first to reach the burgers. 

As hungry as he was, Keith was too busy to move.  Busy straddling his husband’s lap, their lips fused together in what was probably the sloppiest, yet most beautiful of kisses.  It was all lips and spit and a slight bite to Shiro’s bottom lip.  It was perfect, and as Keith cupped Shiro’s jaw and mouthed at his husband’s handsome smile, he felt like this was a night to contend with all others.

“You know I love you, right?” Shiro asked, hands fastened on Keith’s ass, kissing him again before Keith could give him an answer. 

“So long as you know I love you,” Keith murmured when he managed to pull away.

Pidge started throwing grated lettuce at them, in which Keith hopped off Shiro’s lap, picked up a glowing stick from the fire and chased her with it.  Shiro wasn’t sure how Pidge managed to eat a burger topped with onions, lettuce and her weight in sauce while still running from his husband, but she seemed to make it work.  Shiro laughed at their banter, helping himself to sausages and topping a plate up for Keith.

When the two finally calmed down, they all sat around the campfire and continued to exchange embarrassing stories about Lance’s love life.  Lance seemed to take it all in good stride however, offering some of his own favourites.  Keith found it hard to eat; he was laughing so hard. 

After, Hunk brought out a small cake he had made, to which Shiro turned bright red.  He had been adamant about not wanting a cake, saying he didn’t even really want a birthday party, just an outing with friends.  Yet everyone was determined to celebrate their favourite boss’ special day regardless. 

Hunk lit candles and they all sang happy birthday as loudly and as obnoxiously as they could.  Shiro pretended to feed Keith and then made a mess of it over his face in revenge.  Shiro’s reaction to the cake was nothing compared to when Lance dived into the back of the truck, running down the hill with Pidge, a sack over his shoulder.

“What in God’s name are they…”

His question was answered as a glowing firework soared up into the sky from the empty field and exploded amongst the stars.  Shiro groaned, but he was grinning. 

They all watched Lance and Pidge’s firework display from the roof of the range rover.  Keith sat between Shiro’s legs, held securely in place by hands on his stomach, Shiro’s jaw propped over his shoulder.  Hunk let Allura rest against him.  The fireworks ranged from blue to gold to green to blue again.  They cast light over their skin and lit up the space around them with each deafening pop.  Keith twisted to kiss Shiro’s ear, whispering in it.

“Happy Birthday, Takashi.”

Shiro turned, looking his husband in the eyes, his heart swelling in his chest.

“Thank you, love.”

The fireworks ended, the cake disappeared, the beer was drained, and as the fields grew abnormally quiet, they all sleepily pulled out sleeping bags and pillows to set up around the campfire.

Keith was pretty much already asleep, curled up on one of the camping chairs in Shiro’s hoodie.  Shiro cooed at him, kissing his hair and picking him up.  Keith nuzzled into his shoulder as he was carried to the car, Shiro sitting him on the edge of the boot. 

Keith turned, sleepily realising Shiro had folded down the back seats and set up a nest of blankets and pillows, making for a much more comfortable sleeping area than the dirt on the ground.  Keith welcomed the comfort, kicking off his sneakers and unbuckling his belt.  Shiro helped with that last task.

“Why do you guys get the range rover?” Lance asked, already tucked into a single sleeping bag with Allura, who was snoozing on his chest and didn’t seem to mind her boyfriend’s whining.

“My car.  My birthday.  My exhausted and drunk husband.”  Shiro simply stated, throwing Keith’s belt and shoes into the front seat.

Keith grumbled in agreement as he crawled under the covers and got comfortable, which wasn’t exactly hard with the number of pillows surrounding his tired body.

“Fine, but I swear to God if I see any steam fogging those windows in the middle of the night, I’m setting off the rest of the fireworks!”

“I second this!” Pidge called from her place in Hunk’s sleeping bag, except the two had unzipped both of their sleeping bags and attached them to make one monster sleeping bag.  Shiro quietly thought it was a great idea of ingenuity. 

“Kill joys!” Keith yelled, even though he knew he was in no way up for another round any time tonight.

Shiro rolled his eyes and slipped into the boot finally.  He pulled the blankets up around his waist, shucked off his shirt and settled in under the covers, pulling Keith up against his chest.  Keith automatically curled into him, the hoodie bunching around his wrists and providing extra warmth and comfort around his head.  Shiro thought him to be so cosy and huggable like this it ought to be a crime. 

It fell quiet.

The crickets chirped.  The fire crackled.  Hunk began to snore, all of them too drunk to really pay any mind to it.  Until…

“Mmm, spank me, Daddy!”

“Keith!  I swear to God!”

Laughter filled the empty field, ringing through the night sky, like the twinkling of the stars hung permanently above them. 


End file.
